Abominable
by SE46 Mantis
Summary: It's wrong on so many levels, yet she can't bring herself to care.


She's fairly sure, no, absolutely positive, that they ever found out about this, they'd dump her in prison faster than she could squeak: "It's not what it looks like?"

To be fair, it's not like she'd be surprised if they did, considering the enormity of this new addiction. What, did she expect them to laugh it off, joke about her choices in life and forget it ever happened?

No, what she was doing, it was wrong on so many levels. They'd be disgusted, horrified, outraged; cast her out of the Avengers straight into a cell.

But she can't help it. She's a girl who strived for thrills, and this thrilled her in many ways, with all its sin, pleasure and morbid amusement. It's like a drug, that she keeps going back for, again and again, no matter what consequences it could have.

She just can't help it.

Obviously, it's a tad difficult to arrange a meeting that's convenient for both of them. She has her duties as a hero, and he has his struggle as an escapee, hunted by the very beings who would condemn her just as quickly as they would him if they discovered the truth.

Tonight, it's an old house, abandoned, soon to be demolished, and absolutely perfect for the next indulgence.

He's already there, skulking in the corner of what used to be the living room. The old sofa has been torn apart, the two thick cushions dumped on the floor while the rest lies in shreds. The ragged curtains are drawn, claw marks decorate the walls and a rat scuttles away through a hole in the floor, frightened of the monster who has invaded its home.

Orange eyes gleam when he sees her flit through a crack in the window, as a lecherous smile spreads over reptilian features, and he taps a claw against a scaled thigh in anticipation. He's been waiting so patiently for this moment.

It strikes her every time, but he's absolutely huge, taking up a fair amount of space, and even if she weren't shrunken right now, she's still probably only the same size of one of his arms. He may not have the name, but he was certainly a hulk in his own right.

Any other girl would probably be terrified at even glancing at such an abomination, let alone approaching it in an abandoned house where it could easily just crush them into pulp and escape into the night.

Of course, she's not like other girls, though, and maybe that's the problem.

He doesn't bother with courtesies, greetings or formalities. The minute she's before him in human size, he pushes forward, rears up, so tall his head nearly grazes the ragged ceiling.

It's all her willpower to restrain a whimper as the simple proximity of his bulk moves her back; she finds herself falling onto the discarded cushions, a welcome catch, as he leans over her, massive claws digging the floor on either side.

She's pinned, trapped between cushions, arms and torso, and his sharp teeth bare at her in a smile befitting a hungry shark. And it sends bolts of utter excitement throughout every inch of her. It's unclear whether it's his domination, or the carnal thrill of hero and villain that provokes such eagerness, but neither of them care for the reasoning.

"Been too long since I last had a go at you." He growls, his hot breath wafting over her, a subtle ripple over her skin, and suddenly his tongue darts out, grazes her neck, drawing a shuddering gasp from his prey.

She neglects to mention it's only been a mere two weeks, because that would only anger him, and he wasn't as much fun when he was angry. His tongue taunts her slim neck again, before he retracts, revelling in that tiny whimper of disappointment she gives off.

He loves power, and his power overwhelmed her in every way. She was soft skin and begging whimpers under him, and it was damning in its intoxication.

"Sorry to keep you waiting." His prey replies, her breathing already becoming ragged, but there's a challenging smirk on her lips and a daring gleam in her eyes that he finds amusing. "But we only get the good things in life with patience."

He certainly has no patience for her wit. He snarls then, a feral ripple that sends delighted shudders bolting through her nerves as she anticipates the inevitable power that is hers to revel in, as claws grind into the floor, and he leans in closer, close enough she can identify individual scales and the subtle blackness of his pupils in the gleaming eyes.

"Why bother with patience, bug, when I can just take what I want?"

Ah, it's adorable how he gets so worked up at even the slightest hint of someone daring to contradict him. In response to his assertion, she gives a short laugh, and reaches her hands up to playfully tickle at the fin-like ears. His bestial growls dissolve into contented rumbles as his rather sensitive fins flick slightly at her touch.

She looks him in the eyes, and that daring gleam brightens; it's almost fanatical, that gleam, and she whispers, sultry, damning and utterly arrogant:

"Well then. _Take it_."

It's fortunate she'd thought to wear an old shirt and jeans rather than her costume or anything more expensive than a few dollars, because his claws, shockingly precise and fast, tear them off, ripping the constricting attire to shreds.

Cold dusty air kisses her bare skin, her back arches slightly, and he leans in, grazing sharp teeth against her shoulder, before his tongue possessively attacks her, tracing the curves of her neck and collar and jaw. She's moaning now, drugging him with the sound, hands scrabbling frantically at his thick necks, legs kicking pitifully under him.

He is power, and she is his.

Perhaps a tiny part of him wonders what sort of unholy retribution awaits him if the Avengers ever found out what he did to their precious bug. But then he realises how he doesn't care in the slightest for what her pathetic team-mates though. He grins the shark grin, and rears up slightly, just to take her in, helpless, overtaken with lust, corrupted.

Her eyes are lidded, but that gleam remains. So brave, yet so soft, so breakable. His eyes rake her little feminine body spread out beneath him with untamed carnal desire. She whimpers softly, pleading for him.

How could he possibly resist?

* * *

Captain America is attentive and loyal, and both these factors drive him to leap off the couch and move to assist Wasp when he sees her struggling past the door. She's got the oddest smile on her face, eyes bright and happy to see him, wearing a weird shirt-and-skirt combo, but she's limping, legs shuffling awkwardly, hair strung about in an unkempt fashion, and she seems flushed, out of breath.

"Are you okay, Janet?" He asks, concerned and shocked about her state, but she shakes her head and waves off his worries.

"Fine. Just tried out some new exercise videos at my apartment." She then giggles, a disturbing shudder in the sound. "They were really vigorous."

Again, she smiles her odd smile as she draws in a deep breath, and the Captain asks: "Janet, why on Earth were you watching exercise videos this late at night?"

She shrugs: "For fun."

He shakes his head in disbelief, but it's clear he's not really going to get a decent response out of her; she seems oddly invigorated, yet shattered, and he's perplexed (has she been drinking?), but the Captain decides to save it for tomorrow, and helps her to her room.

He never notices the subtle grazes upon her neck, and he has no hope of noticing the other markings under her clothes. When she's secured in her bed, does he leave her be, wishing her good night and closing the door behind him.

Wasp's body, aching yet satisfied, defiled yet enlightened, is ready to totally shut down now that she's snuggled within warm sheets and blankets, but she contemplates slightly before sleep.

She's not deluding herself with hopes that the monster will changes his ways, or fall in love with her or something stupid like that, but she's a tad unsure why she keeps going back. Is she dissatisfied with Hank's attention to science, seeking some sort of payback? Is she simply too curious for her own good? Or has some force, perhaps that wily Enchantress, infiltrated her mind, pointing her at the monster of her dreams and nightmares?

The other Avengers would be disgusted, horrified, outraged if they ever found out about this. They'd throw her in prison for life for this. And she'd admit she would deserve such punishment.

It's abominable, what she's doing. It's wrong on so many levels.

And yet she can't bring herself to care.


End file.
